Bandaid Covers the Bullet Hole
by AsianOne
Summary: [AU] Dear diary, today I learned I'm not pretty on the inside either. [NejiSaku]
1. Chapter 1

**Bandaid covers the bullet hole**

_Disclaimer: Another song title belonging to Scarling. Too lazy to think of one. And I don't own Naruto._

_ This new fic (that I probably shouldn't even be starting) is the result of what happens when you listen to nothing but Coheed and Cambria for 9 hours while reading Johnny The Homicidal Maniac and eating Rasinettes. Another NejiSaku. I just like Neji a lot. Probably my third favorite character from Naruto after Orochimaru and Gaara. I love Orochimaru I don't care what anyone says. And well, Gaara is pretty much self-explanatory. _

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I shuffled my feet as I slowly walked home. I stared sullenly at the boy in front of me. I've been sitting next to him for seven years in a row. He still doesn't know I exist. His name is Neji. He's the very definition of perfect. Smart, athletic, extremely hot, and polite. To put it in a way that would best describe his perfection, you'd almost expect Neji to be gay if it weren't for his ex-girlfriend. His hair was split-end free. Dandruff was a mythical disease to him. Fat was not in his vocabulary, neither was pimples, it seemed. He speaks gorgeous fluently, to put it plainly. But his eyes. His eyes were the cherry on the sundae. They were the color, or perhaps, the _tint_ of the frost you get on the glass in the winter time. It's hard to describe. But when you find the correct words to describe it you feel almost content, just because **you **know how to describe **his** eyes. But what do I know about content?

I have nothing going for me. I'm not smart. I'm not athletic. I'm not pretty. I don't have a "good personality". But there is one thing I am pretty good at. I've been known to do a shockingly realistic ghost impression. Just ask anyone in my class. They'd tell you I was practically invisible. But somehow there is someone who beats me at that too. You know you've hit **rock bottom **when you go psycho because you're not even the best at being the** worst**. Tha**t**'s the thing that makes me hate myself the most. I'm not special. Not even in the special ed way. To tell the truth, I'd rather be wearing adult diapers and drooling like a leaky sink than being me. I'm far from content.

Now, being ignored all my life has lead me to be bitter toward almost everything I've come to know. But if there is one person I hate the most it's me.

Me- a brief definition.

**Me** equals living in a huge house with parents who don't care about **me**, kids who ignore my existence, if not, ridiculing it (see ironic), and teachers who mark **me** absent every day because they don't know who I am.

This is me. And frankly, I hate this person. We've all have had one of those days where we wake up wishing we were someone else. Somehow "one of those days" for me has stretched for almost all of my life. Yet, I still feel like my existence has no purpose if I don't log the day's events in a notebook. I used to prefer calling it a notebook. Call me neurotic but back then I didn't want to be too trusting with the blank book by calling it a "diary". But over the years I've learned better. "Dear diary" sounds better than "dear composition notebook" or "dear piece of paper". I felt a small smile tug at the ends of my lips as I opened my notebook and began to write.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today was a day like any other. Or so I thought. It happened in history. Although, the class wasn't particularly interesting it was what happened inside the class. Everything was normal at first; the teacher talked about the serial murders going around the school. Last night Ms. Tyreesha was murdered_**(A/Nit's weird how she's mentioned in almost all of my fics). **_She was the twentieth victim, all of them women. The teacher says to be careful because any one of us girls could be the next victim. I bet I'm the only one who's praying to be. I looked over to Neji. He was looking intently at his pencil in boredom. I would have killed to have that same look to be fastened on me. Not so much because I've taken a liking to his super star attitude or his breath taking eyes. But more because he's the kind of person who, when he notices you, gives you his full, undivided attention, something I've been coveting my whole life. But it could be just those almost-horrifyingly beautiful eyes._

_The teacher went on about how scared she was. Neji rolled those gorgeous eyes. Then it happened. He looked at me. For a second I could see my reflection in them, they were so glassy and perfect. But as quickly as he glanced in my direction he was back staring at the pencil. Then Sasuke, class bastard stood up. He said the killer was a coward for only killing women and if he was a real man he'd kill men too. All the other girls shrieked and immediately begging him to protect them all. It brought great amusement to me when he was found dead later on that day in the locker room, his bloodied head drilled open. _

_But, diary, what truly made my day great was how the annoying shriek of the small electric drill was drowned out by the scream he made as the life drained from those obsidian eyes and the drill cracked his skull open._

Call me vauge but I like to keep my entries short. I think it makes me sound a lot more sophisticated. But, I mean really, who am I but just your average, everyday teen serial killer on the prowl?

I may just cry.

_It's too short and I feel like jumping out of a 50 foot building. I suck. I just do. And everything else sucks in general. I even suck at things I'm supposed to do, like eating and sleeping. The fat girl I sit by is trying to force feed me and I haven't slept in a week. This ugly kid is stalking me. And Christian doesn't go to my school so I just go through the day like a robot. But deep down I have this urge to **stab** everyone who pisses me off in the face. I try to be happy but I'm going insane and homicidal. Oh wait, no, I was always like this. I'm probably going to delete this anyways. So um review? _


	2. Chapter 2

**Band-Aid Covers the Bullet hole**

**A/n: sorry for late update…REALLY SORRY.**

Two years later…

"Not losing your nerve now, are you, Haruno?" I muttered to myself as I stood on the building roof. I looked down at my shaking, fumbling hands and let out a dry, harsh laugh. "You really are a gutless pussy, aren't you?"

Shaking my head, I pulled out a packet of cigarettes out of my jacket pocket and lit one shakily with the lighter I had also retrieved from my pocket. Raising it to my swollen lips, pulling my thin jacket closer to my body against the cold and inhaling the nicotine, I looked over the edge of the rooftop, unsurely.

It was the middle of the day and everyone was rushing by on the footpaths for a quick walk from their places of work to the surrounding bakeries and other shops, for something to eat for lunch.

My only food for two weeks had been coffee, cigarettes, and the odd piece of fruit here and there.

I didn't think I'd be here long enough for the need of food. What was the point?

Taking a long drag on the cigarette before crushing it on the ground beneath the heel of my left boot, I looked down at the people below on the footpath, again. All oblivious - bless them.

My eyes shifted back down to my boots. They really were nice - a shame I had to do this in them - I'd spent $250 I didn't own on them in an impulse buy. Maybe I should take them off and leave them here so someone nice could find and use them.

"Just get it over with, Haruno," I commanded myself. "Finally do something fucking worthwhile in your life."

I grunted at my own statement, and obliged, lifting myself onto the roof railing where I stood unsteadily. I stood there for a while, swaying dangerously for some time, and almost lost my balance when I heard the door leading up to the roof bang open.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I straightened myself and rolled my eyes. What kind of inquiry was that? 'What do you think you're doing?' I've heard game-show hosts ask better questions. And, aside from the moronic underlying, who the hell did this guy think he was, anyway? If I wanted to spill my guts all over the pavement it way my business, no one else's and I didn't plan on making it.

"Looking at the sky - the pollution's not so thick up here - I think it might actually be blue."

"Why don't you get off the railing and then look at the fucking sky?

I spun around, almost fell prematurely but steadied myself in time, looking at the boy with blazing eyes and long pink hair blowing against my cheeks. And then I realized it was him. It was Neji. His full, undivided attention on me. Finally. His eyes fastened on me. Finally.

It was almost enough to make me want to come down. Almost.

"Why don't you get off the roof and let me get on with killing myself?!"

"I can't do that," he said simply.

I felt the steam coming out of my ears as I surveyed the dark-haired boy. Who did he think he was? Just who the fuck did he think he was?! Yeah, sure I use to worship him but it was my life and I could do with it, as I liked, whether it be good or bad, moral or immoral. What the fuck was so hard about turning around and walking away from this as if it never happened? Or did he just not have the balls to do that?

"You can't or you won't?" I countered angrily, determinedly staying where I was on the railing.

"Both," he answered, stepping forward a couple of paces.

"Don't!" I screamed with a hint of desperation in my voice. He stopped walking closer. "Don't fucking move!" I continued. "Come any closer and I'll fucking jump!"

"Christ!" He sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. "Okay, okay!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Good."

"Just don't jump"

"No."

"What? 'No'?"

"No. No talking. I want..." I turned away from him to look back at the scene below "...I want some time to think."

"Sounds good to me," he conceded, sitting on the ground with his back up against the wall and pulling out his own packet of cigarettes. "Mind if I enjoy the right of free will and stay up here too, though?"

I looked over at him to see him smiling innocently and sweetly at me, before quickly glancing away again, to sit myself on the railing instead of standing on it, and looking again at the ground. "Whatever."

"Okay."

"Okay," I repeated.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, the amount of people out on the street had dispersed but the two people atop the apartment building were still there. Now, I was sitting on the roof too, not the railing, against the white cement wall across from the man who I only knew oh so too well. He seemed to think his participation in getting me down from immediate danger to be a triumph.

"What's your name anyway?"

I blinked before saying my reply - it had been a while since either of us had spoken.

"What's yours?" I asked, knowing the answer only too well.

"Neji," he answered, without missing a beat, and looking directly into my eyes, from across the distance between us. "Yours is?"

"Sakura. Why do you want to know?"

"Well, when I tell people I saved a damsel in distress, at least now I'll have a name to add." He said dryly.

"Don't be so sure," I muttered under my breath, flicking some ash to the floor next to me from the cigarette and then returning it to between my lips.

"What was that?"

I raised my voice a little so that he could hear. "I said don't be so sure you saved this damsel in distress."

"Since you're not in the jumping position at the moment, I'll count that as a success."

"What if I do what I intended to do all along, only after you've gone?"

"I'll just have to stay with you for a while longer then, won't I?"

"Oh yay," I drawled unenthusiastically, peering at him with my green eyes, which I'm sure were dull.

"Don't twist my arm or anything."

I simply shrugged, indicating I could care less whether he left or stayed, and we both fell under another spell of silence. Until he, again, was the one to break it.

"Why were you going to do it?"

"Who says I'm not gonna do it still?" I asked, indignantly.

"Why though?" He asked gently. He had such a quiet, nice and gentle manner. I wanted to punch him for it - why couldn't he have been a horrible asshole to me? I'd be dead by now if he was. But noooo, here I am, still alive.

"And why did you come here to do it?" He paused. "You know, some say it's closer to Heaven up here."

"Screw Heaven," I said brusquely, "There's only Hell - and we're all in it."

"People make their own hells."

"Well, believe me, I had no intention of creating mine."

"How did it happen then?"

I looked away, almost angrily, but I kept my voice calm and even. "It's a long story."

"Feel like sharing?"

"No."

Neji paused after my quick and fierce response, before asking, "Then- you telling me why you were going to end your life- isn't going to happen?"

"Let's just say I'm sick of trying to make it work."

"Make what work?"

You've gotta give him points for persistence, I'll admit that. I gestured around as I answered, "This! All this is what I'm sick of!"

"Is that all?"

"Like I said, it's a long story."

"It's not gonna fix itself; why don't you tell me?"

I laughed dryly, making it sound more like a rasping, humorless sound. "I just met you, Neji," I lied, "how the fuck can I trust and tell you when I don't even trust myself?"

"Don't trust me then."

I licked my lips and changed the subject. "How did you find me up here, anyway?"

"You can't just do that," He said quietly.

"Do what?" I enquired innocently.

"Change the subject like that"

"Well you're changing mine. So how did you find me up here?"

He gave me an annoyed but mild look, predictably answering the question anyway. "I see you coming up here everyday after school for a long time, see you climbing the stairs up here everyday when I get home. I just needed to make sure you didn't do anything stupid - you are always alone here after all."

I looked down at my hands in my lap. "It wouldn't have been stupid." I muttered hoarsely, feeling a bit more contempt for him, and at the same time a little more worship.

"No?" He asked, once again staring at me honestly, straight in the eye. "What would it have been then?"

"A release."

He let out a surprised and long breath, his eyebrows raised. "You're fucking insane, Sakura. I don't know you and I don't think I should get to."

"Fine, don't," I said, nonchalant.

"But I think I can help."

"Help?" I demanded, for once looking him directly in the eye like he did to me once, a long time a go. "You think I need help? Even if I did, no one could help me."

"Maybe I could. If you let me." A slow, and damn attractive, smirk grew slowly on his lips. "I must have done something right - you're not a minute away from throwing yourself onto the ground off my apartment."

"I don't think I will," I said absently and then added my eyes fixed to his face. "At least not today - not with you here."

"Oh thank fucking God!" He said earnestly but with no emotion.

My lip curled. "I'd rather not."

He looked taken aback for the slightest of moments at my vehemence, before quickly recovering. "Look, I think I need to walk you out of here before you try anything else"

"Yeah, okay," I agreed, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull me to my feet.

As we walked down the stairs, I said, "You want to know something funny? I'm morbidly afraid of heights."

Neji snorted. "And you chose this way to kill yourself with?"

_Dear Diary, _

_Underneath all the pollution and grayness the sky really is blue._

**Is it bad? Terrible? Horrible? I'm sorry. It doesn't make a lot of sense but I realized after re-reading the first chapter again Neji and Sakura could never really meet without Neji being all OCC. Well, more than he is now. And for the diary bit…there's no hidden meaning- I just couldn't figure out what to write for it without it sounding corny or gay or something. I hope you didn't hate this chapter too much cuz everyone's all occ- I just wanted to show how different they both became over time. I just came back from my brother's volleyball game in which I got hit in the face with the ball TWICE everyone was laughing at me but it hurt like a bitch. Extra large. TTTT The first time I got hit I moved to a different place so I wouldn't get hit again then not five minutes later I got hit in the same spot in my new location. Then I went home and wrote this. I hope you don't hate me for making Sakura all suicidal. But I didn't make her weak, I don't think I did…I hope I didn't. I hate when people make her all 'I cry alone in my room because I can't do anything and I'm too weak' or whatever --. I kind of based her on myself in this chapter. Not that I'm suicidal but like how I'm stubborn and sometimes strongly-opinionated to the point where I think there is no possible way for me to be wrong. Plus, I figured if I were ever to commit suicide I wouldn't like draw the process out by cutting myself or whatever I'd jump off a building. I'm also morbidly afraid of heights and I figure I'd scare myself to death half way down and it'd be kind of painless. I don't know it's late at night; I said I was sorry! **


	3. Chapter 3

**BANDAID COVERS THE BULLET HOLE**

THE ASIANONE SAYS: This story is my favorite story to update. I don't feel so good about myself today. So I'm updating this story. I didn't like the last chapter as much as I thought I did. I hope I redeem myself with this chapter. Review and tell me if I do mmmk?

--

As we walked we didn't say much.

Truth be told, I was a little relieved.

The last thing I needed was to have another battle of inquiries with the king of questions.

Because I had enough questions as it was without Neji contributing any more of his own like how did he get me away from my fate? Why did he do it? And if it really mattered.

I brushed those thoughts away.

As soon as we were as far away from the building as he thought necessary he broke the silence.

"Where's your house?" He brushed a hand through his hair quickly.

I looked at my boots sheepishly. I didn't think I would need any type of shelter.

"You're incredible," he said, crossing his arms irritably.

"Well, if you didn't stop me I wouldn't be homeless," I shot back crossly.

"You're fucking incredible do you know that? Most people would be grateful that I actually took time out of my day to save their ass from the stupidest mistake of their life!" He hissed, his eyes flashing with irritation.

"Again, I didn't ask you to save me," I walked in the opposite direction, holding my head high, walking speedily to another tall building not far off.

I didn't know why I did that. Maybe for the thrill of knowing that he'd be right there behind me, dragging me back to safety. Maybe because I really was intent on killing myself.

But I think it was fate.

Our fates were intertwined together in such an intricate, complicated pattern it was impossible to untangle, making it clear, making it obvious that yes, this was meant to be.

His hand shot out on to mine. Pulling me back toward him, "You're like the puppy I never wanted," he muttered leading me hand in hand back to the apartment.

"Fuck you," I spat, struggling against him.

His grip tightened on me, as we got nearer and nearer to the apartment complex.

He didn't say anything.

I would never admit it to anyone but I was disappointed.

--

Assumption.

Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups.

You may be so set in your ways that you might forget the possibility that things could be different. And when that is the case you're left unprepared; helpless; vulnerable.

Weak.

And to survive this world being weak is out of the question.

I can't help but thinking if I hadn't assumed so many things then would things be different now?

I stared out the window forlornly. Looking at the peaceful city life outside his window with slight disdain ridden on my features.

"Well?" he said.

"What do you want?" I said, not bothering to look at him.

"I believe a thank you is in order."

"Well, you're wrong then."

"Then I think you should at least tell me why you're so bitter."

"Why are you so fucking concerned?! This isn't your business!" I hissed, turning and facing him.

He chuckled dryly, "If only you knew."

If he wanted my attention he had it now more than ever.

"What the hell are you even talking about?" I tried to sound tough, my voice wavering.

"It is my business, Haruno,"

"H-how do you know my last name? Wha- Who?" I started to step away from the tall man who was calmly sitting down and looking at me with a knowing, aggressive expression playing on his graceful features.

"I know why you were going to jump," He said out of the blue, he said, getting up, stepping one step closer to me as I stepped one back.

His eyes caught mine. They didn't look worried, concerned, or curious anymore.

The emptiness in his pearl orbs became filled in a spilt second. His eyes were hazy, but filled nonetheless.

Filled with nothing but pure unfiltered rage; greed; power.

For the second my head shot up, immediately my first impulse was to latch it back down, my back flat out against the wall; trapped.

He was so close now.

His purpose was so clear now.

But the thing that made me scared the most.

The thing that made me want to scream was that

he understood.

All the things that didn't make sense to one of sanity made sense to him.

And he didn't care if it was wrong.

He just knew.

His hand shot out, his fingers catching my chin, forcing my eyes to lock with his.

Unbearable.

"The thing is," he started, drawing my face nearer to his mouth, so I could feel his every gasp of breath on my earlobe, "It was your choice, Sakura."

I managed to gulp.

"You have to live with your choices. Good or bad." I could almost feel his tongue mouthing every syllable against the outer shell of my ear.

I squirmed.

"You can't go blaming others for your mistakes or look for quick ways out of it just because you'd like things to be different."

His grip moved from my chin to my neck, the hold he had on me getting tighter.

"It's not their fault- it's yours."

I wanted to scream. But it was lodged in my throat, so the only sounds emitted from my gaping mouth were heaving, dry sobs. Where they came from I myself did not know.

"It was your choice, Sakura. You chose."

His lips were just mere _millimeters_ away from mine.

I tired to break free. But it was a useless attempt. But I already knew that. And it was killing me.

"Now it's my turn. Now I choose"

I still wonder, looking back on that fateful day. Was that a threat? A warning? Or perhaps, even worse; a promise?

His harsh glare didn't stop me from bolting out of his small dank room and up the stairs leading to the roof. I assumed he would follow, he would stop me, and he would bring me back.

But he didn't.

His words were still ringing in my ears.

"_It was your choice, Sakura. You have to live with your choices. Good or bad. "_

I stumbled, clumsily taking my boots off, throwing them a couple feet behind me.

"You can't go blaming others for your mistakes or look for quick ways out of it just because you'd like things to be different. It's not their fault- it's yours." 

I attempt to steady myself on the railing. Sitting on it unsteadily, my knees on the railing, my hands next to them for much needed support, the ground below me a long ways away, swirling, dark, and all too familiar.

"_It was your choice, Sakura. You chose."_

And then I jump.

"_Now it's my turn. Now I choose."_

And then I die.

--

I could feel _his_ lips curve. But it was far from a smile.

There is no breath passing my lips.

But I feel alive.

My flesh is as cold as death.

But I am not bothered.

My lips are blue.

My heart isn't thumping in my chest, as it should be.

But I don't care.

_He_ is calling me.

_Now I choose, _he repeats.

And without a single doubt I let him.

_His_ voice is hauntingly strong.

So I listen.

And then I go to _him_.

Because it's _his_ choice.

Not mine.

--

_Dear Diary,_

_Today I died. _

--

THE ASIANONE SAYS: Bet you didn't see that coming. No, I am not on drugs. Yes, it's supposed to be confusing.


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